


infinity with you

by rainbow_porcupine_ninja



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: (sort of), Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Merlin (Merlin), Canon Era, F/M, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Gwen and Arthur Friendship, Love Confessions, M/M, Merlin's Magic Revealed (Merlin), Morgana gets a redemption, Pining Arthur, Requited Love, bandits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-07 08:26:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21714787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainbow_porcupine_ninja/pseuds/rainbow_porcupine_ninja
Summary: Arthur’s planned a lovely outing with his queen, and his manservant of course, to put a stop to the (completely true) rumours about Gwen and Lancelot secretly courting.But when they’re attacked by bandits and Merlin is forced to reveal his magic in front of Arthur, how will the king react? Will they rescue Gwen in time? What does her kidnapper want from them?Alternative Title: Arthur pines and didn’t get enough hugs as a child, and Merlin would DIE for his king but won’t admit it until the end of the story
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), background Guinevere/Lancelot
Comments: 30
Kudos: 369
Collections: Merlin Holidays 2019





	infinity with you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tehfanglyfish](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tehfanglyfish/gifts).

> Happy Merlin Holidays tehfanglyfish and thank you for such interesting and inspiring prompts! I decided not to go with them all, which was a tough decision— they were all great ideas— and had a lot of fun forcing Arthur to talk about his feelings™! 
> 
> I hope you like the story, I had a lot of fun with it and it really stretched my ability as a writer. It was my first time writing Gwen/Lancelot, even if they are just a background, and I really enjoyed toying with Morgana!
> 
> Have a lovely holiday and all the best for the new decade!! xx

Merlin’s eating his porridge in a sleep-ridden haze when his king barges through the door.

‘Sire, I was going to wake you in half an hour like normal, what are you doing up?’ Merlin asks, blinking out the sleep from his eyes. He’s surprised that it even formed— he barely slept a wink last night. Like normal. Merlin really needs to get on top of his sleeping patterns.

‘Today, we’re going on a picnic,’ Arthur announces grandly.

Merlin raises an eyebrow. ‘The two of us?’

Arthur stammers out a ‘no, you idiot.’ He fiddles with the cuff of his jacket.

Merlin rises, sighing, to fix the buttons that are haphazardly joining the wrong holes.

‘The queen will be joining us, then, I assume?’ Merlin asks, brushing his fingertips over the seam of Arthur’s coat.

Arthur nods, staring at a fixed point on the wall behind him.

‘Arthur,’ Merlin starts, ‘everything okay? Is it a special occasion or something?’

After a moment, Arthur appears to make a decision. ‘There have been rumours going around about Gwen… and Lancelot.’

_No shit_, Merlin thinks, and would have said it out loud if not for the tic in Arthur’s jaw. ‘Well, those rumours… do have a…’

Arthur growls.

Gwen and Lancelot have been courting for the past year, and Arthur’s consent was freely given— Gwen and Arthur were barely a thing years ago, and they’ve only really been friends. Merlin does realise the reason behind Arthur’s worry is to do with the general public- he has to admit that the queen’s affair getting out completely wouldn’t do any help. To anyone.

‘So… you’re planning to have a romantic picnic to _rekindle_ your—’

‘Shut up, Merlin, I’m not _rekindling_ anything,’ Arthur grumbles, thwacking his manservant over the head. ‘You know we’re not like that.’

‘Yeah, yeah,’ Merlin mumbles, ignoring the fuzzy feeling given by the close proximity.

‘It’s just for show, really. I don’t even know why I’m telling you this,’ Arthur says grumpily.

Merlin doesn’t know either, so he smiles cheekily. ‘Because I’m your friend?’

‘Don’t push it,’ Arthur smirks, leaning in and flicking Merlin’s ear then turning around and heading out the door. ‘Don’t forget the sandwiches,’ he calls over one broad shoulder.

**…**

Merlin has packed up everything and put it on the horses, but Arthur’s still complaining. He wants Merlin to bring another bottle of wine just in case, and Merlin knows that it’s just an excuse to make his manservant do more work today, but nevertheless he’s rushing up and down the many flights of stairs to the kitchens. 

He trips and almost stumbles down a few steps before his magic eagerly grabs him by the neckerchief sets him on his feet again. It’s been doing this a lot in the past few days, like it’s enthusiastically preparing for something. Merlin can’t help but feel a little bit nervous. 

He retrieves the wine and returns to Arthur, who’s waiting impatiently.

‘ _ Mer _ lin, will there ever be a day when you’re not delaying us?’ Arthur grumbles, which Merlin ignores irritably and swings onto his own horse. 

Gwen gives him an apologetic smile that says  _ ‘he’s a prat, but we both love him, don’t we?’  _ and they’re off. Merlin still has no clue why he’s being roped into coming with him. It’s not like Arthur wants his manservant for safety, even though Merlin’s saved his noble arse countless of times.

Arthur makes sure that they take the public exit out of Camelot, passing by the busy streets of the lower city before heading into the forest. People smile and wave— as much as they love King Arthur, the beautiful Queen Guinevere is ‘one of them’.

Along the way to a hidden grove about an hour’s distance away from the castle, Merlin’s magic continues to try to make itself seen by bothering Arthur’s jacket lapels and swatting at trees as Merlin fights an inward battle. His magic’s always been mostly self-contained unless someone’s getting hurt. Which is fine. It’s not fine when it’s got a mind of its own. 

He remembers this happening once before, on Arthur’s wedding day. No matter how hard Merlin had tried to enjoy the joyous event, his magic kept playing up, putting pepper in the food and ruining Arthur’s suit in the morning when Merlin went to fetch it. It’s like Merlin’s magic is trying to sabotage something, trying to stop something from happening.

Merlin tries to put it out of his mind as they make their way to the clearing. Arthur’s clearly enjoying himself; why ruin the day? Gwen’s talking about their next festival coming up in the winter and the sun is shining through the trees, landing on Arthur’s hair and setting it alight before Merlin’s eyes, and so he finally allows himself to relax.

They reach the clearing before the sun is high in the sky and Merlin quickly dismantles the basket and blanket from his horse. It’s a nice flat area they’ve encountered multiple times over the years, some with Gwen and some not. Merlin enjoys listening to the distant trickle of a stream to the north and the rustling of quiet branches. 

Of course, this isn’t a romantic occasion, even though they’re trying to show the public that it is. Gwen says they’re married to show the kingdom that anyone can marry anyone. Besides, Lancelot and Gwen have had a thing going on for years.

Gwen’s also an amazing queen; intelligent, loyal to the crown and incredibly beautiful. 

It’s just that Merlin can’t help the cruel tug he feels in his gut when Arthur and Gwen hold hands in front of a crowd of people, or kiss on jousting days. He doesn’t like to think about why… much like he doesn’t like to think about Arthur’s hair in the sun or his wine-drunk smile. Those things are kept in the darkness for a reason.

Merlin gets the opportunity to relax in the sun after tying up the horses and uses it to his advantage. The sun is warm and gentle in the new winter air, the breeze even more so.

Suddenly, there’s a cracking sound behind him and he spins around, only to be knocked in the face by a large club. 

‘_Shit, shit, shit_,’ he curses from the ground, but it’s too late because Gwen’s being dragged away, screaming, and Arthur’s surrounded by bandits. 

Merlin thanks the heavens that Arthur’s smart enough to carry his sword  _ everywhere  _ because that’s the only thing keeping Merlin’s king from being slashed to death by dozens of burly men. There’s not much Merlin can do besides trip them, cause branches to fall; Arthur’s slashing is taking the intruders out one by one. 

Eventually they seem to be the only ones in the forest. Arthur whirls around to face him. 

‘Thanks for helping,  _ Mer _ lin _ ,’  _ he sneers. 

Merlin rolls his eyes, but Arthur doesn’t see— he’s sheathing his sword and striding into the undergrowth. Eventually he turns around to find Merlin still standing in the same spot.

‘What?’ Merlin asks dumbly.

‘We need to go find her, Merlin,’ Arthur growls. ‘Every second we waste our queen is getting farther and farther away.’

‘Shouldn’t we go back to Camelot? Get some knights?’

‘We don’t have time,’ Arthur barks and spins back around. ‘Don’t slow me down.’

Merlin quickly pulls out a scrap of paper and magics up a quill, jotting down a quick note. _ Gwen taken. Arthur needs help _ . He ensures that there’s a map on the back, then the note goes up in flames as he mutters words under his breath; if something goes wrong, at least Lance will come to the rescue. 

He hears a call up ahead and scurries towards the sound, finding Arthur with a scrap of Gwen’s dress.

‘Gwen’s smart,’ Arthur mutters, thumbing the piece of torn blue fabric in his hand. ‘Of course she wouldn’t just let herself be taken.’

‘We have to move,’ he mutters, gesturing for his manservant to follow.

‘Move where?’ Merlin demands.

‘This isn’t my first time tracking, Merlin,’ he drawls, turning to face him.

Merlin’s eyes widen as a cloaked shadow springs out of the thickets, someone who’s escaped Arthur’s Excalibur. 

It’s too late for Arthur to turn around and pull out his sword, it’s too late for Merlin to push Arthur out of the way, it’s too late, it’s too late, it’s too late… 

Time slows down and Merlin can feel his magic pushing from inside out, begging him to let it take the reins, and Merlin doesn’t stop to think. A wall of pure golden force pushes out of him, ignoring Arthur and slamming the figure to the ground. 

Then there’s silence. Arthur’s staring at him and Merlin knows, heart hammering, that he’s seen it; his eyes, the wall of magic, the man now lying down, dying, on the forest floor. 

‘Merlin,’ Arthur whispers to his manservant, mortification clear on his face. ‘What the hell was that?’

‘Arthur,’ Merlin responds brokenly, because by God, Arthur wasn’t meant to see this, he shouldn’t be here. ‘I can explain-‘

Merlin’s about to tell him, isn’t he? How he’s gone behind his king’s back for  _ years _ , using something that Arthur hates, that has been forbidden in the kingdom for decades. Arthur will never truly trust him again. 

It’s obvious that Arthur is disgusted, horrified, even, and that’s the fatal blow. Merlin’s dreamt about today for years, and he had always hoped that Arthur would forgive him, laugh about it.

Merlin’s always been too gullible for his own good.

He can’t face his king now, he can’t face him ever; he just wants to curl up into a ball and cry for decades.

So that’s why he snaps his fingers and shudders between realities, somewhere far away from Arthur, leaving his king alone in the forest.

**...**

Arthur eventually finds a rotten stump to sit on once he has been brought out of his stupor. He’s completely alone in the forest, he has no idea where he is, and he feels ever so lonely without his manservant by his side. Not that he wants to see Merlin, not now.

After a while, Arthur hears a noise in the bushes behind him. He springs to a stance, hand on his sword sheath, and a horse crashes through the undergrowth. 

‘Lance!’ Arthur exclaims. ‘What the hell are you doing here?’

‘Wow, I really didn’t pick the best path, did I?’ Lancelot mutters, eyeing the path a few yards away from where he’s standing.

‘How did you know to come?’ Arthur demands.

Lancelot stares at him. ‘Where’s Gwen and Merlin?’

‘Gwen got kidnapped by bandits and Merlin’s disappeared. Did you know that he has magic?’

Lancelot looks uncomfortable. 

‘How come I didn’t know?’ Arthur cries. ‘He was my… best friend, he should have told me.’

‘My king,’ Lancelot begins, ‘There’s something you should know about Merlin’s magic, and why he was ever in Camelot in the first place. I don’t think I should be the one to tell you, but you should go find him.’

‘I don’t want to see him,’ Arthur snaps. At least, not at the moment, he doesn’t say, but from the sympathy written all over his knight’s face Arthur knows he doesn’t have to. 

‘If it’s so important, tell me yourself.’

Lancelot sighs and bends to sit next to him on the log. ‘There’s a prophecy.’

Arthur clenches his teeth. Great. Nothing good ever comes out of prophecies; history has made that clear.

‘It involves you, my king—‘ 

‘Just—‘ Arthur hisses, then remembers himself. ‘Call me Arthur. We’re alone, after all.’

It’s kind of awkward, that, Arthur realises. He’s married to Lancelot’s girlfriend, and even though Arthur and Gwen aren’t even courting, at least not anymore, Arthur never knows whether to breach the subject or not.

Not like it matters now. 

Lancelot hums. ‘As you wish, Arthur. You and Merlin are intertwined in an ancient prophecy. Your destinies are bound together, as the druids say. I don’t know the full prophecy or what it entails… no one does around these parts, anyway… but you are… important to each other, my— herm.’

Arthur stares at the ground, forcing himself to unclench his jaw.

‘Important,’ he drawls.

Then he turns to Lancelot, a question forming in his mind.

Lance smiles, already guessing, making assumptions. ‘He’s had magic since he was born. It’s not something he’s chosen.’

‘But why stay in Camelot?’ Arthur hisses. ‘That idiot, he knows how harsh the law is.’

‘Not too sure,’ Lance shrugs, a faraway look in his eyes. 

‘He’s not even a good manservant,’ Arthur mumbles as his eyes start to sting.  _ So why am I so attached to him? Why is it that every time he’s not in the room I ache all over? _

Lancelot bursts into laughter and Arthur looks up in shock. ‘What?’

After a few seconds of wheezing giggles he draws in a deep breath and puts his head in his hands for a moment. Then he turns to his king.

‘You really don’t know, do you? How much he’s done for you.’

Arthur stills, tensing up.

‘Care to…’ he coughs. ‘Elaborate.’

The knight turns to him fully, clasping Arthur’s hands in his own. ‘That isn’t my story to tell, my king. Just know that he’s used his magic to save your arse too many times to count— and he hasn’t breathed a word of it. He hasn’t asked for anything in return, just to sit by your side. To protect you. He’s faced monsters of all sorts, undertaken perilous journeys for you.’

Arthur feels so small, now, so lost. ‘Why?’ he breathes.

‘Because, well, he loves you, Arthur,’ Lancelot says incredulously. Like it’s obvious. Arthur chokes and curls his arms around himself.

‘I never thought… well Merlin told me you didn’t know but I didn’t realise you were that dense…’ Lancelot mutters, but it’s like everything is underwater because it barely reaches Arthur’s ears.

Lancelot stands up now; he seems to have regrets about this conversation, and Arthur doesn’t blame him. ‘I think you’d better find him, Your Highness.’

‘Will he let me?’ Arthur implores, feeling very empty.

‘Eventually,’ Lancelot replies, and starts to pack up his horse. ‘I’ll go save our queen, shall I?’

**...**

Gwen wakes up on the floor in a gloomy, dark room with a witch watching over her. 

She screams and sits up right away, crawling back from her. ‘Morgana,’ she breathes.

Morgana smiles. ‘Hi, Gwen.’

When Gwen is still looking at her with the same frightened-deer expression, Morgana winces and steps back, arms non-threateningly in the air. ‘I’m not here to hurt you, dearest,’ she soothes, with the same smile from all those years ago. 

‘Why kidnap me, then?’ Gwen hisses, pressing her back against the grey stone wall of the small, plain room.

‘Well, that’s to do with your husband,’ Morgana says offhandedly. ‘You’re just the bait.’

‘You’re using me to kill him?’ Gwen whimpers, thoughts spinning, but Morgana laughs. 

‘No, silly,’ she giggles, but it seems too evil to be cute. ‘He’ll be no use to me dead.’

‘He’ll bring backup,’ Gwen says loyally.

‘I doubt it,’ Morgana sighs, ‘he does tend to rush into things. But I’m not planning on fighting him. I’m going to propose something.’

Gwen raises an eyebrow. 

‘Oh, don’t look at me like that, sweetheart, you’ll melt me,’ Morgana chuckles, and then clenches her jaw, looking embarrassed. She gets down on her knees in front of Gwen and sits next to her in the cold, empty room. ‘Look,’ she begins, ‘I’ve… really missed you.’

‘Missed me? You’re the one who’s turned all evil and is attacking my kingdom,’ Gwen lashes out.

‘Yes, well, I’ve changed paths, you see,’ Morgana says. ‘Uther’s dead, and I did want the throne, but that part of me has died off.’

‘You expect me to believe that?’ Gwen asks, hurt. ‘It’s been years, Morgana, since you stepped into our castle with a friendly face.’

‘I know that, and I’m sorry… I went too far and hurt people in the heat of the moment. I’m still angry, but most of it has died with Uther.’

Morgana grins. ‘I have a new enemy now.’

‘Why don’t you come back to us?’ Gwen implores, scrunching her eyebrows together. Now she doesn’t see the evil witch in Morgana; she just sees the sad, lonely woman who used to be her friend.

Gwen’s always seen the best in people, she knows that. But she just can’t help it; Morgana’s tattered purple dress, messy hair, soulful eyes make Gwen want her friend back. This doesn’t seem to be a killer anymore.

Morgana chuckles darkly. ‘And immediately be excepted? Gwen, dearest, I wasn’t born yesterday.’ 

Gwen purses her lips. They sit together in silence for a while.

‘So, who’s this new enemy?’

‘Oh, didn’t I tell you?’ Morgana smiles, leaning in conspiratorially. ‘His name is Emrys.’ 

**  
  
  
**

**… **

At first, tracking Merlin was hard. 

But now, standing on top of a cliff hanging over a grey clearing, Arthur knows exactly where Merlin is. That idiot, he thinks, and feels a deep pang in his chest. 

He’s standing near the edge, hours from any civilisation, and he’s been travelling for a while now. 

But there’s always been a clear sign as to where his bloody manservant is located; there’s a blue pulsing, more obvious than before, coming from a cave near the shore of a dull-grey lake Arthur’s never seen before.

He slowly makes his way down the craggy outreaches and overhangs, tearing his hands on the sharp rocks as he climbs and climbs. 

This isn’t the hardest part of Arthur’s journey, however; it’s the anxious press of battered hands against the cornflower-blue push of Merlin’s pained, beautiful magic trying to send him away. The first minute of his pushing towards the cave is bitter hell, like trying to walk normally in a hurricane. 

He manages to grab onto a rock at the entrance of the cavern, and then Merlin’s magic seems to give in, like Arthur’s passed some sort of test.  _ Okay _ , it seems to whisper,  _ just don’t fuck it up _ .

‘Merlin,’ he breathes, because there he is, crouched on the harsh floor of the cave, and magic is rolling off of him like waves of lakewater in a storm. Arthur steps forward, pressing against the strain of the waves, and moves towards him, because suddenly the magic doesn’t matter, the secrets don’t matter, Arthur just wants to talk to him again.

‘Merlin,’ he says again, louder this time, and crouches down next to him. Shakes his shoulder. Curls around him.

‘Merlin, it’s me,’ he begs. ‘I’m here, please come back, it’s not worth it going on without you.’

Arthur cups Merlin’s tear-stained face, presses their foreheads together. ‘I’m here.’

The bluebell eyes don’t open, but the magic ceases. For now. Arthur, on his knees, wraps two strong arms around Merlin and presses his chin to his dark curls. 

‘I’m sorry for the way I acted. I was surprised! And mad. Not because of your magic— just that you never told me. And I might still be a little mad, but I won’t send you away.’ 

He takes a shaky breath.

‘Because I need you too much.’

Merlin’s eyes snap open, full of new tears.

Arthur swallows, lost in them.

He’s speechless for a moment, but then he continues. ‘And Lancelot told me how much you’ve done for me, how you’ve saved me countless times over, but I’m not talking about… needing you in that way.’

Merlin smiles, his beautiful face lighting up like the sun.

‘Oh,’ he says simply, and then he’s leaning in, and Arthur’s whole world sets on fire as their lips press together. 

He hears a whimper, and flushes to realise that it came out of his own mouth. Merlin pulls back, a similar flush creeping up his neck. ‘Sorry, I— was that okay? I just assumed, I should have—‘

‘Hey,’ Arthur ventures, smiling a little. ‘It was more than okay.’

The smile he gets in return is worth a thousand suns.

‘So you’re okay with the whole… magic thing?’ Merlin whispers.

Arthur shrugs. ‘I suppose so. I do wish you’d told me, but yeah. I’m okay with it.’

Arthur sees the tension releasing from Merlin’s shoulders.

‘You sure?’ Merlin mumbles, bursting into tears.

Arthur’s eyes widen. ‘No, Merlin, hey, it’s okay,’ he murmurs, pulling him close like it’s second nature. ‘I’ve never been sure of anything in my life.’ 

But Merlin sobs harder into Arthur’s chainmail, so Arthur does the only thing he knows how to and holds him, pulling him into his lap and stroking his hair.

After a while, the breathing evens out, and Merlin pulls away to look Arthur in the eye. 

‘I’m sorry,’ Merlin breathes, pain written into the lines of his forehead. Arthur wants to reach over and smooth them out, touch that soft skin. 

‘I’m sorry, Arthur,’ he repeats. ‘I know I should have told you, I was just—’

‘What?’ Arthur interrupts, suddenly so very nervous. ‘Scared?’

‘Not of you,’ Merlin says.  _ ‘For _ you.’

Arthur traces nonsensical patterns on Merlin’s back, refusing to look at him.

Merlin continues, ‘you’re the king, Arthur. Yeah, I was scared when I first came, frightened out of my mind, but I  _ know _ you. I didn’t want you to…’ he swallows, and Arthur’s eyes follow the movement of his pale throat. ‘I didn’t want to put you in a position where you had to choose.’

Before Arthur has the chance to ask c _ hoose between what?  _ <strike> _ You should have already known that the answer would always have been you. It’s always been you _ </strike> , Merlin keeps speaking.

‘I also… just didn’t want you to know about that part of me,’ Merlin says earnestly, scratching the back of his neck. ‘It’s not something I’m terribly proud of, and I know you’ve grown up fearing magic, and I… don’t want you afraid of me.’

Arthur looks at Merlin now, really looks, and he knows that this beautiful, fragilesoft boy of a man would never hurt him. But Arthur’s too afraid to reassure him— they’re treading a narrow line between king and manservant and something more, and Arthur wants and wants and wants.

So he smiles instead and brushes an errant lock of hair off of Merlin’s forehead.

‘I could never be afraid of you, clotpole.’

‘Hey, that’s my word!’ Merlin laughs, and Arthur would give himself over to the world time and time again just to hear that happy sound forever.

Merlin wraps his arms around his king, and Arthur smiles into his hair. 

‘I haven’t really done this before, you know,’ he murmurs.

Merlin pulls back, just a little, brows raised. ‘Hugged?’ he asks sceptically.

Arthur shrugs, feeling small. ‘I just never… got the chance.’

Which is a lie. He’s had multiple chances. Just another thing to blame on Uther.

‘By anyone?’ Merlin says, digging a little deeper.

The curling in Arthur’s gut gets a little tighter. ‘Yeah,’ he whispers, panicking at the look on Merlin’s face.

Merlin then smiles, slow and sweet. ‘That’s okay, it’s not your fault. I’ll just have to give you more hugs.’

Arthur grins, relieved, as Merlin pulls him back into a tight embrace.

They lie there, for minutes, hours, days, as Arthur breathes shakily and traces patterns on Merlin’s back. This close contact is scary, and beautiful, and Arthur can feel his pulse rise at the fact that this is  _ Merlin _ , hugging him, and they are pressed chest to chest, and Arthur’s never felt so light. 

‘Oh!’ Merlin says, remembering. ‘Did you find Gwen?’

‘Nah, Lancelot’s got it,’ Arthur smiles.

‘Hm,’ Merlin hms.

Arthur rolls his eyes as Merlin pulls away, and he immediately feels the loss of a hundred men as Merlin removes his arms from around his neck. ‘What?’

‘Lancelot isn’t safe,’ Merlin starts, standing up quickly and shrugging back on his jacket. 

‘What— he’s one of my best knights, Merls, he’ll be okay,’ Arthur grumbles, following him.

Merlin turns to face him, face incredulous.  _ ‘Merls? _ ’ 

‘Uh, I, well, I was just—’

Merlin then smiles, looking at him like someone might look at a puppy trying out a stumbling walk for the first time, and steps closer and closer so that their bodies are flush against each other. 

‘Save that for later,  _ sire _ ,’ Merlin purrs into Arthur’s ear, then steps away.

Arthur barely hears Merlin’s next sentence over the roaring in his ears; ‘You don’t have any horses, do you?’

Arthur blinks and tries to remember how to form vowels. ‘Gshdk, erm, no.’

‘Then how did you get here?’ Merlin asks in disbelief.

When he doesn’t get a response, Merlin turns around, sighing.

‘Lance isn’t okay,’ he continues.

‘How do you know?’

Merlin gives him a look and Arthur remembers that there are things he doesn’t know about him.

It’s a hard realisation to have; someone he’s known for the best part of his life having the one thing his father drilled into his head since he was young that had to be  _ bad _ and  _ evil  _ and _ wrong _ , and of course Merlin wasn’t any of those things, he couldn’t be.

So Arthur nods, smiling, and they walk around the lake, headed for a hill in the distance. ‘So you know where we’re headed, then, do you?’ he says dryly. 

‘Course,’ Merlin mutters.

Arthur sucks in a breath. ‘You’ve done this often, then?’ 

Merlin’s lips twist, looking sideways at Arthur as they make their way up the hill. ‘And I wouldn’t change a thing, sire.’

Arthur feels a strange tug in chest, not unfamiliar, and they walk along in silence for a while. Eventually his curiosity gets the better of him. 

‘Tell me,’ Arthur whispers, and Merlin’s lips tighten. Arthur may or may not be focusing on his lips now that they’ve actually kissed. Not that he hasn’t been before… anyway.

‘Tell you what, sire?’

‘You don’t have to— call me— ngk.’ Arthur says eloquently. ‘Your magic. Everything I don’t know. Tell me everything.’

‘Okay,’ Merlin announces. ‘Where shall I start?’

**  
  
  
**

They stop walking at sundown. Arthur seems to be annoyed with the fact that Merlin’s leading the way for once, which Merlin finds hilarious, but now he’s tired and they’re only half way through their journey to Morgana’s castle. Well, Merlin assumes it’s a castle; he’s not actually sure. All he knows is that they’re travelling in the direction of Gwen and Morgana, which is enough for now. 

He’s just finished telling Arthur the story of Balinor, which he hasn’t seemed to enjoy. His brows are furrowed and he’s chewing distractedly at his lip, stealing glances from Merlin every minute or so. 

Merlin stretches, sitting down on a log. ‘I really shouldn’t abuse my powers like this, you know,’ he says conversationally. He whispers one of the spells that he remembers to steal the blankets off of his bed back in Camelot; he’s sure Gaius won’t notice.

Arthur gives a small smile. ‘Your eyes light up, the colour of fire.’

Merlin shrugs. ‘Yeah, don’t really have an explanation for that. It just happens.’

‘They’re beautiful,’ Arthur whispers.

Merlin scratches his neck, unsure of how to receive such a compliment. ‘No one’s ever said something like that about them,’ he mumbles.

‘I guess I’m going to start saying that more often, then,’ Arthur announces, and starts to collect large sticks in the general area. ‘Now, do you have fire powers?’

Some time later they’re sitting next to each other, watching the burning fire light up their little section of the woods. Merlin’s trying to entertain him with stories, but it’s passing right over Arthur’s head, he can tell.

‘What is it?’ Merlin says impatiently.

Arthur stares into the burning enders for a moment. ‘Not even asking once for recognition,’ he murmurs into the night. ‘Why?’

When he gets no response, Arthur turns to his manservant. ‘Why have you done all of these things for  _ me _ , Merlin? I’m no one special. I’m not even magic myself. Why surrender to the prophecy? You could run away,’ he says breathlessly.

‘No one special?’ Merlin asks in disbelief. ‘Arthur, you are  _ everything _ to me.’

Arthur blinks. ‘Oh.’ 

He notices the way Merlin’s neck and the tips of his ears are now bright red, how Merlin’s whole body is turned towards his king.

He takes Merlin’s hand.

This feels like the start of something new and wonderful, and for once Arthur won’t shy away.

**…**

Morgana gapes at Lancelot, whom her guards have thrown in from outside.  _ ‘You?  _ They only sent you?’

Lancelot hisses, tossing his hair back as best as he can while in manacles. ‘Oh, don’t worry. There are troops coming.’

He’s lying through his teeth, but no one has to know that.

‘Lance!’ Gwen cries, throwing herself at him. ‘What are you doing here?’ 

Lancelot shushes her to keep quiet. ‘Get behind me, Gwen,’ he announces, eyeing Morgana, who smirks. 

‘No, it’s okay, love,’ Gwen laughs, ‘she’s not going to hurt us.’

‘What makes you so sure?’ Lancelot mutters, still giving Morgana a hard once-over.

‘Because I would have done so already, knight,’ Morgana says. ‘I just want Arthur; you’re no use to me.’

‘Why? So you can kill him in front of his knight and his wife? Not a chance,’ Lancelot hisses.

Gwen wraps her arms around him and whispers in his ear, ‘she wants to find Emrys.’ 

Lancelot freezes up.

Morgana is looking at them cautiously. ‘Are you two—’

‘Does it matter?’ Lancelot asks.

‘No,’ Morgana asks innocently.

**  
...**

Merlin wakes up to the smell of Arthur’s soap. He smiles, cracking open one eye, and finds that Arthur’s already awake, staring at him with a forlorn expression. 

‘You’re a creep,’ Merlin mutters, closing his eyes and wriggling ever closer.

‘We’ve got to get moving, Merlin,’ Arthur whispers, but he doesn’t seem to want to move either. Merlin moves to lay his head on Arthur’s chest, who lets out a sweet sigh. 

Eventually the rays of sunshine that are blasting through the trees get a little too bright for comfort and Merlin sits up, yawning. Last night wasn’t the best of sleeps, lying on the hard forest floor without a mat or anything, no matter how soothing Arthur’s strong arms around him were.

‘C’mon, sire,’ Merlin teases, poking a foot at Arthur’s middle. ‘Rise and shine.’

Arthur grumbles something about not having to call him sire, but gets moving. They’re on the road again in a few minutes.

They reach the castle when the sun is halfway on its journey towards the apex of the sky. It’s exactly what Merlin was expecting; dark, gloomy and mysterious.

‘Gwen and Lance are trapped in there,’ Arthur mutters, pulling out his sword and striding towards the castle. 

The wind blows around them, rattling the window panes as they slowly make their way up the cobbly steps of the castle. 

When they eventually get to the tower room containing the witch, knight and queen (it’s something from a story book, isn’t it? Merlin digresses.), Arthur without delay holds out his sword, scanning for any traps. Merlin would swoon if he wasn’t so busy glaring at Morgana.

‘Oh, hello,  _ Merlin _ ,’ Morgana declares delightedly. ‘I wasn’t expecting you to show up, but I’m  _ so _ glad to see the man who tried to poison me.’

Merlin watches Arthur uncuff Lancelot out of the corner of his eye. ‘I wish I could say the same about you.’

Gwen grabs his arm urgently, causing him to break eye contact with Morgana. ‘It’s okay, Merlin, she doesn’t want to hurt us.’

‘Yes, that’s right,’ Morgana says, seeming a little bit miffed at the fact that her red carpet was taken away. 

‘You’re a king, Arthur! Good on you!’ She smiles at her half-brother, who glares at her in a king-like manner.

‘I need your… assistance to find someone,’ Morgana continues. ‘His name is Emrys, and he’s become my archenemy over the past few years. I would imagine, with Camelot’s resources, we would find him together?’

Merlin’s body is rigid, but he attempts to maintain a cool facade. 

‘Why on earth would we help you? You just  _ kidnapped _ my wife,’ Arthur says haughtily.

Morgana chuckles. ‘Your  _ wife _ has been sleeping with another man.’

‘Oh, I already knew that, sister dear,’ Arthur dismisses. 

If Morgana’s shocked, she doesn’t show it. ‘Well, you weren’t going to listen to me straight up front, were you? Now, will you help me or not?’

‘Tell me about this Emrys,’ Arthur sneers. ‘What is so powerful to make my sister running scared?’

‘I’m Emrys,’ Merlin says. The whole room seems to pause in time. Then everyone turns to look at him.

Eventually Arthur coughs. ‘Look, Merlin, this is quite brave, and I know that you  _ do _ have—’

‘Shut up.’ Merlin interrupts. Upon seeing Arthur’s face, he adds a feeble ‘sire. I’m not kidding.’

Morgana shifts from hip to hip. ‘Emrys is an old man.’

‘You‘ve magically aged too, Morgana,’ Merlin smirks. ‘Would you really like me to demonstrate?’

‘You’re just a servant!’ Morgana says, laughing. ‘If you really have magic to best me, prove it.’

Merlin glances quickly at Arthur, who seems a little bit speechless. 

He gives in after a moment and summons a bit of fire in his palm with a whisper, raising his eyebrows at Morgana.

‘Now, I don’t want to do anything aggressive, because we seem to be on peaceful terms,’ Merlin continues, relinquishing the fire in his palm, ‘but if you insist—’

‘No, it’s fine,’ Morgana interrupts. 

‘Emrys?’ Arthur asks.

‘Yeah, it’s my Druid name.’ Merlin says distractedly.

‘Sexy.’

‘You’ve had magic all this time?’ Morgana asks. The candles flicker dangerously.

Merlin puts his hands up non-threateningly. ‘I was born with it. Just like you.’

‘All these years…’ Morgana whispers. ‘You knew about mine, and you didn’t even dare to help me when I was hurting and alone.’

‘Morgana,’ Merlin says frantically, stepping closer. ‘I know, and I’m so sorry—’

‘You don’t get to be sorry, Merlin,’ Morgana seethes. ‘I’m going to let you all go, and then you’re never going to bother me again. Arthur,’ she addresses, ‘you’re not Uther. I had to learn that the hard way. I will let you rule.’

Arthur’s eyes fill with tears, which rattles Merlin to his very core. Arthur was always so stoic, so calm in the face of any battle, and seeing him like this makes Merlin feel terribly uncomfortable.

‘Sister, I never meant to steal anything from you,’ Arthur croaks. 

Morgana smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. ‘I know, Arthur.’ 

She walks towards him and takes both his hands in hers. ‘But you do understand why we can never see each other again, don’t you?’ 

Her eyes light up, the same fire as Merlin’s, and a glowing crown appears just inches above Arthur’s head.

‘What if Camelot changed?’ Arthur whispers, still staring at the space where the crown had been long after it disappears. ‘What if it was different?’

‘Well,’ Morgana laughs, ‘I would thank my lucky stars.’

She turns away from the group, stares out the window and into the abandoned courtyard below. ‘Goodbye, Arthur.’

**  
  
**

**…**

**  
  
**

The great hall is bustling with servants, all scurrying around to get ready for the Yuletide Ball. Merlin’s managed to sneak away from the cook for just a moment, and he’s resting in an alcove outside the ballroom against a wall when His Royal Highness approaches him.

‘Merlin, what are you doing skulking around?’ Arthur sneers.

Merlin rolls his eyes in turn, but pulls Arthur into the alcove with him. ‘Just resting!’ he whispers. ‘I’ve been on my feet all day, no thanks to  _ you _ , and I just needed a break.’

‘You get paid too much,’ Arthur grumbles half-heartedly, eyeing Merlin up and down. He’s dressed in a full proper manservant suit, excluding that ugly excuse of a hat, and Arthur seems to enjoy it.

‘Like what you see, my lord?’

Arthur coughs and Merlin can see the tips of his ears turning red. It’s always an enjoyment to watch, this embarrassment lark, and Merlin’s about to tell Arthur that when Arthur pulls him into a searing kiss, pushing him up against the stone wall. Merlin smiles into it, twisting his hands through Arthur’s hair, and relishes in the tingly feeling he gets every time Arthur does this.

Merlin loves Arthur’s kisses because they’re interesting and passionate and so  _ Arthur _ , so of course they’re infuriating and sexy and ernest just like him. Arthur kisses like he lives, and Merlin finds experiencing both very entertaining.

Arthur eventually pulls back, forcing Merlin to open his eyes and let go of the hair in his grasp. 

Arthur’s still got his eyes closed, mouth parted slightly as he breathes heavily. Merlin smiles, watching him. 

Then Arthur blinks his eyes open, runs a hand through his already ruined hair, and pushes off the wall, striding away. 

Merlin sighs, touching his lips fervently. 

It isn’t like this ‘kissing in secret corners’ lark is new; Merlin has a feeling it’s because Arthur doesn’t like talking about it. 

Arthur doesn’t like talking about a lot of things, so that’s why Merlin has learned to pick up on the little things, like body language, posture and facial expressions. That’s how Merlin knows that Arthur’s nervous about tonight. But about what? His speech? The meeting of the guests?

Merlin pushes off the wall with his foot and slinks back into the great hall before someone catches him.

**  
...  
  
**

Arthur surveys the animated room below him. Everyone’s chatting enthusiastically and everywhere he looks are vibrant Yule decorations; the food is excellent and the tables are lined with Camelot’s best candles.

Now is a better time than ever, so he rises to his feet from his throne. The chattering dies down, and everyone turns to face their king.

Arthur coughs, glancing at Merlin, who’s leaning against the wall with a water jug, then faces his audience. 

He blabbers on about the Yuletide season and Camelot for a few minutes, but eventually he can’t postpone the main event any longer.

‘As you all know,’ Arthur begins, ‘Magic has been banned in Camelot for a long time. I grew up with the ideas and concepts that were hammered into me by my father; one of those was the idea that magic is inherently evil. It should not be trusted. I was a child, but I’m not one anymore.’

There are murmurs in the room. Arthur can feel Merlin’s eyes on him but he doesn’t dare turn. He will finish this speech with his last breath if he has to.

‘Tonight, things will change. There’s something I’ve realised in the past few months, and that is that it isn’t the  _ magic _ that is evil; it’s the act and the reason behind it. One can be a tyrant with or without magic; my enemies have made that very clear. This witch-hunt has gone on for far too long, taking many innocent lives. I retract this ugly, biased law surrounding magic.’

At once all of Arthur’s knights cheer in unison, clapping loudly, and many are to follow. Arthur allows himself a small smile. 

‘Magic is no longer banned in Camelot!’ he announces over the raucous to the astounded audience. ‘Of course, this is no simple procedure, but do expect changes in the next few months. Everyone is welcome in my kingdom!’

With that, all the sceptics give in and a standing ovation is in order, the people of the town unanimously agree. Arthur grins. Once the applause dies down, he declares, ‘Let the festivities continue!’ 

And so Arthur sits back on the throne, sighing in relief. The people return to their conversations with much enthusiasm and Arthur reaches for a glass of wine. 

Eventually Arthur can’t help himself and peers around the room. Merlin’s nowhere to be seen. Arthur admits with a sigh that he got his hopes up and expected Merlin to bound over to the throne and thank him fervently, but instead he’s run off somewhere. Arthur downs more wine and slumps a little in his lonely seat.

**  
  
**

After a few hours, Arthur feels the need to excuse himself. He’s a tad bit intoxicated, but not enough to forget where his chambers are located. Or that he has a certain manservant to talk to.

He finds Merlin sitting on his bed, lost in thought.

‘Hello, you,’ Arthur murmurs, coming to sit next to him. ‘I knew you’d run off somewhere, you pitiful excuse for a manservant.’

Merlin turns to him, smiling, then reaches out to link their hands together. Arthur shivers at the touch, but squeezes Merlin’s palm nonetheless, marvelling at the delicacy of his fingers. Merlin’s the most powerful sorcerer in the lands, and yet his hands are gentle and soft. Arthur runs his thumb along Merlin’s palm.

‘You did it,’ Merlin whispers. 

Arthur grins. ‘Yeah. I thought it was about time. Don’t expect anything to ch—‘

He’s interrupted with an enormous bear hug as Merlin tackles him onto the bed. ‘Thank you,’ Merlin laughs into Arthur’s shoulder. ‘I never thought… I never imagined…’

‘Well, I couldn’t have an illegal manservant  _ loitering _ within Camelot’s walls, could I?’ Arthur mumbles. ‘Had to do something ‘bout it.’

Merlin pulls back to look at Arthur fully. The smile on Merlin’s face is worth the speech, worth the crowds, worth the critics. Not for the first time, Arthur thinks,  _ I love him, _ but he’s still too frightened of himself to form the words. This thing they have is so fragile, so breakable.

‘Go blow out the candles,’ Arthur commands instead, and they lay together in bed with the moonbeams trickling in like sleepy candlelight. Merlin clings onto him like he’ll never let Arthur go, and they sleep soundly as one.

**  
  
**

The next day, Arthur hardly sees Merlin at all. Gaius seems to have multiple laborious plans for him to do with collecting herbs, which is somewhat irritating, because meetings have always been dull without Merlin making faces in the corner.

The meetings today are very important, however. His knights have much to discuss about lifting the magic ban, and Arthur has a decision to make.

He’s made up his mind at dinner time, watching Merlin hum while he pads around the room doing various things.

‘Merlin,’ Arthur begins.

Merlin puts down Arthur’s chain mail and smiles. ‘Yeah?’ 

‘Sit down for a moment, will you?’ Arthur breathes.

Merlin slides into the chair next to him. 

‘How would you like to be court sorcerer?’

Merlin removes himself from the chair at once, standing up in shock.  _ ‘What?’ _

Arthur stands up as well, coming a little closer. ‘Well, you know, I’m going to need one. I know little about magic, and we’re going to have to put up wards, and I need someone by my side in those kinds of meetings…’ 

‘Oh, of course, my love,’ Merlin breathes, and Arthur shuts down. 

Merlin’s smirking. That little  _ shit _ , Arthur curses in his mind, because he can feel his cheeks on fire and skin melting and heart pounding—

_ My love _ ? Since when—

Well, Arthur supposes, since they’ve started sharing beds and touches and hearts, and since he’s been able to feel Merlin’s soft stare on his face before he opens his eyes, and since Merlin’s joined him for dinner, where they hold hands and banter into the night. 

Arthur’s never been good at expressing his feelings. He’s never gotten much physical or verbal affirmation of love from his father, and there’s been no one to hold at night or tell him that he’s incredible, or amazing. So he hasn’t believed it, hasn’t asked for anything like that from anyone.

Merlin, of course, has no trouble with showing affection. He gives away praise like it’s nothing; he touches Arthur like it’s even less. Arthur tries to keep up with him, but when he does it it feels awkward, like he’s doing something wrong. 

Merlin’s something else, that’s for sure. Arthur’s never blushed like this, never trembled under another person’s touch before. Merlin is his better half, golden and warm and good at everything. Not that Arthur could ever tell him that. 

So when Merlin calls him darling so offhandedly, with that smirk of his and turn of his head, with those innocent sparkling eyes and cheekbones, well. Arthur collapses.

He can faintly hear Merlin’s concerned faraway voice, many minutes later. Arthur blinks out of his trance, once, twice, then moves to the sound of Merlin’s voice.

‘You okay?’ Merlin murmurs gently, coming closer.

Arthur smiles, but even that feels wrong, because it could never compare to Merlin’s endearing, beautiful smile. It’s unfair that the gods have chosen him to love Merlin, because Merlin deserves everything and Arthur’s only a lonely, broken king, and he’ll only live so long.

A tear trickles down Arthur’s cheek, but he only realises this until it reaches his jaw.

Merlin’s distressed now, and he reaches up to wipe the tear away. ‘I’m sorry,’ he says frantically, clutching at his king’s sleeve. ‘Was that too soon? Too fast? I can stop, I can slow down, I’ll do anything—‘

Arthur takes a deep breath and steps forward to wrap his arms around Merlin’s skinny waist, to breathe in the growing flowers in Merlin’s hair, to curl and tighten his fingers in Merlin’s jacket. Arthur doesn’t normally take the lead with these matters, so Merlin stands still with shock for a few seconds before exhaling and sinking into the embrace.

They stay like that for a while. Arthur can feel his heart returning to a normal pace in his ears. Then he reluctantly pulls away, but close enough to feel his manservant’s gaze when his eyes are closed. 

‘Merlin,’ Arthur says softly, ‘you might have realised that I’m not the greatest at showing affection.’

‘It’s alright,’ Merlin breathes. ‘I don’t mind. You can take your time.’

Arthur’s heart shatters at that, but he continues to step through the shards, even though it hurts his feet and head and heart, because it’s Merlin, and for him Arthur could face anything. 

‘I appreciate that, Merlin, I really do. But I  _ want _ to touch you, want to be able to tell you how I feel. I’ve never had… anyone to give that kind of thing to, but I would like to give it all to you. I want you to know how much…’ 

It’s started to snow outside. Arthur can hear the soft patter of snowfall in the distance and see the slow buildup of flakes on the windowpane near them. He notices how the white makes Merlin’s eyes turn the colour of a summer sky, lighter than the colour of his stupid neckerchief. 

It doesn’t matter that Arthur’s the king, or Merlin has magic. It matters that Arthur is lucky enough to have Merlin love him, and Arthur will never let him go.

‘I love you, Merlin,’ Arthur says, and suddenly stars that were hung when gods roamed the earth come crashing down upon them like a billion flames bursting upon Arthur’s heart.

Well, not exactly.

But Merlin’s got Arthur by the shoulders and now he’s firmly pressing him up against the cold walls of the chamber, kissing him senseless. 

It’s sweet and breathless and brilliant, and Arthur’s got stars bursting in his chest because wonderful, clumsy Merlin is reaching down and fumbling with Arthur’s trousers.

Arthur’s been unlocked somehow, but it’s too late to worry about how Merlin’s done that because he’s hoisting Merlin bridal-style into his arms and laying him onto his bed. 

Their bed.

Now it’s Merlin’s turn to blush.

‘I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before,’ Arthur mumbles, smiling crookedly. ‘But all the rivers and lakes and seas in the world will run out before I stop loving you.’

Merlin whimpers, and suddenly their clothes are all off. Handy, this magic lark. 

Arthur is pulled down onto the bed and they’re kissing again, this time slow and languid. It’s hard to tell where one and another begins, because at the moment they are one beautiful love story. Their fingers are trembling as they carve their hearts into each other, two hearts finding an unsteady yet unbreakable rhythm.

‘Beloved,’ Arthur whispers into soft skin and Merlin comes undone, shaking and breathing hard as Arthur’s tongue travels down his body. 

Merlin’s fingers card through his king’s golden hair roughly as he says one name, over and over. Arthur’s mouth is full, so he traces stars and flowers on Merlin’s hips with his fingertips. Merlin makes a wretched, guttural sound and Arthur’s never fell harder.

But he doesn’t mind.

Because Merlin catches him and brings them up, pulling a hand in between them, and now they’re floating on wings of gold-crimson. Arthur could ride this wave over and over, but eventually their breaths even out and they’re able to see properly again.

Arthur presses small kisses to Merlin’s forehead lazily and basks in the adoration radiating off them in waves. He hopes that he’ll never get used to this, the lethargic clinging to each other like sunflowers to the sun. 

‘Bath?’ Arthur asks sweetly.

Merlin grumbles something about lazy clotpoles but his eyes light up, the colour of the sun, and Arthur hears water splashing in the tub metres away. 

Arthur picks his lover up with the ease of a hunter picking up his dead prey, and Merlin squeals in protest but lets him carry him to the bath, which is now full of steaming water. 

‘You know, you never did tell me why you stayed, Merlin,’ Arthur says offhandedly.

Merlin rolls his eyes, turning around so that their chests are flush together. He wraps his long legs around Arthur’s torso to sit in his lap. 

‘Yes I have, dollophead,’ he says. ‘Multiple times now.’

‘Tell me again?’ Arthur asks.

‘It’s because I love you, Arthur,’ Merlin murmurs, his features turning soft as the corners of his mouth turn up a little and he presses a kiss to Arthur’s jaw. 

‘I love you too,’ Arthur whispers for the first time. It seems that it will forever have an affect on Merlin, who is delightedly kissing down Arthur’s neck.

‘Hey,’ Arthur grumbles, pulling Merlin back up to face him. ‘I’m going to have to make you my consort if you keep this up.’

Merlin’s eyes flash wide open, searching Arthur’s face for answers.  _ ‘What? _ ’ 

‘You never know with these strange kings, Merlin,’ Arthur drawls, grinning, ‘the throne is a lonely and cold one. They tend to keep their lovers close in winter.’

‘Shut  _ up _ ,’ Merlin says delightedly, kissing Arthur earnestly on the mouth. ‘You can’t just say things like that.’ 

‘I’ll say things like that forever, if you want me to,’ Arthur mumbles. ‘As long as you’ll have me.’ 

‘Arthur, I want you forever,’ Merlin says, pressing their foreheads together. It’s an intimate thing, this closeness, and Arthur wants this to be permanent so badly. 

‘I will love you when we’re both old, I will love you in the afterlife, I will love you when we’ve been reborn, and I will always find you,’ Merlin sighs, his voice like honey. 

Arthur doesn’t have to say anything, but he does anyway, pressing I love you’s to Merlin’s skin.

They stay in the bath for a long time after that. 

**  
  
  
  
  
**

  
  



End file.
